Like You A Latte
by hachimitsu.umeshu
Summary: Naruto isn't addicted to coffee so much as he is to the sullen redhead behind the espresso machine. AU, coffee shop romance, yaoi, NaruGaa
1. Chapter 1: Grind

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Naruto or any of the characters, and this piece of fanfiction exists for the sole purpose of entertainment.

**Pairing: **NaruGaa

**Genre: **romance, humor

**Rating: **PG-13

**Words: **2895

**Warnings: **language

**A/N: **This story is the result of stress-induced, reality-avoiding roleplay. Gaara written by LilPurplFlwr and Naruto written by Futago no Seishi; edited by Futago no Seishi. Coffee shop AU courtesy of the brilliant mind of LilPurplFlwr. This story is basically just an excuse for us to abuse the term Coffee Bae and allow Gaara the chance to circumvent any and all of Naruto's cheesy attempts at flirting.

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**Like You a Latte**

**Chapter 1: Grind**

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It wasn't so much that Naruto had a caffeine addiction. Sure, he loved him some heart-racing, glucose-ramping energy in the form of bittersweet liquid goodness. But really, he kept on frequenting the coffee shop because he straight up had a crush on the barista that worked the closing shifts on Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday nights.

Yes, he frequented this particular establishment often enough to learn Coffee Bae's schedule. No, he had no shame about giving the other man that mental title.

Signs for pumpkin-flavored seasonal drinks peppered the windows as he walked up to the door, heart doing a little flip flop of anticipation at seeing Gaara. Today was the day; he was going to ask Gaara out. And if woefully unsuccessful, this would be the day that he resolved to abstain from coffee.

The night was going by so. _slow_. Gaara stared over the paltry collection of customers scattered amongst the tables. No one studied on a Saturday night if they didn't have to and, obviously around here, no one had a deadline for tomorrow. They had a grand total of 27 minutes before he could kick their tech-addled, procrastinating asses out into the street so he could lock up and clear out.

He was tempted to start the self-cleaning cycle on the espresso machine when a flash of blond caught his periphery. He knew that yellow blur anywhere. Naruto came in for coffee almost every night since Gaara started working, and the insomniac in him was growing fond of the fellow night owl. At first he had found the guy alarmingly friendly, but now Naruto just seemed refreshingly chipper. The sullen part-timer in him, however, was decidedly more homicidal that the man decided that coming in for coffee 25 minutes before closing was a good idea.

"Hi, Gaara!" Naruto chimed cheerfully as he stepped through the door, flashing pearly whites in what he hoped was a charming smile. He always came during the tail end of Gaara's shift in the hopes that he'd be able to have more time to speak with the other man. He once made the mistake of swinging by right after work and, not only was Coffee Bae annoyingly unavailable (the gall to actually serve other customers!), but he even had his order taken and completed by another barista entirely. Absolutely unacceptable. He had chugged his mocha in quiet petulance on that whole drive home.

"Looking good tonight." Naruto's eyebrows jumped up briefly in suggestion as he delivered the pick-up line.

Besides, if he was going to continue to make a complete fool of himself while flirting, it was probably better to have less of an audience.

Naruto admired the way that Gaara's thin lips curved downward ever so slightly, giving his resting expression an adorably sullen touch. Plus, the other man appeared to be slightly overdue for a trim, as his bangs fell just a touch lower on his forehead to frame his deep-set eyes. He was of the opinion that Gaara should grow his hair out a bit; the shag gave him a bit of smolder that Naruto found just irresistible.

"Thank you," Gaara intoned, sounding automated despite his attempt to interject _some _liveliness to match the other's preternatural energy. "I did laundry yesterday." Friday evenings were a great time to use his apartment complex's washer and dryer since it seemed that most of the tenants had other plans. Apparently Friday nights were a "thing" and it was normal for people to "go out." This was all according to Kankuro, so the validity of the explanation was debatable.

He moved toward the register and typed in his employee code to unlock the tablet screen. "Is it mocha tonight?" he asked, brows furrowed slightly. Despite consistent patronage, Naruto had a frustrating habit of changing up his order, leaving Gaara discomfited and unable to predict the regular's request.

Sometimes Naruto wasn't sure if Gaara was just trolling him with his responses, but he laughed regardless at the monotone answer. It was part of Gaara's appeal, that blunt disinterest. He always had a hilariously banal response to every single one of Naruto's attempted pick-up lines.

Naruto walked up to the register and leaned his hip against the counter, casually casting his eyes down Gaara's body to look at his admittedly very clean clothes. The words came out of his mouth before he realized just exactly what he was saying.

"It'll be a shame when they get dirty later."

Executive functioning caught up to his gutter mouth and Naruto's eyes widened in realization that, oh crap, he really jumped the gun with that insinuation. First step: Ask Coffee Bae out on a date. He was definitely too old for one-night stands.

He coughed nervously as a reflex and busied himself by looking at the promotional poster for the limited-time drinks on the menu board above the other's head. He was unusually glad for Gaara's focus on customer service. Yes, he was here to get a drink—of course. "Ah, no. Give me one of these pumpkin spice lattes. Double shot, please."

The tablet had unlocked to a blank screen. Frowning at the lag, Gaara crossed his arms only long enough to restrain himself from stabbing the frozen device. "Clothes get dirty, Naruto. I don't understand what shame has to do with anything," he said, filling the void of emptying patience as he waited for the order screen to load.

A beleaguered sigh left him when he was finally able tap in the request. Turning the screen around, he motioned for the blond to choose a payment method. "I mean, you're not ashamed of that, are you?" Gaara nodded at the streak of gray at the edge of the other's shirt. It looked like Naruto might have brushed against an old metal surface of sorts.

"Huh?" His gaze followed Gaara's eyes and noticed, for the first time today, the dark mark by his waist where his button-down tucked into his trousers. Naruto felt the heat creep up his neck and self-consciously moved his free arm to cover the stain while he inserted his credit card into the chip reader. Why, in fact, he _was_ ashamed of his dirty clothes.

Naruto wasn't sure whether to be thankful for Gaara's obliviousness in the face of his lewd come-on or horrified by the other's powers of perception. "Oh. I didn't know that was there."

He withdrew his credit card to quell the obnoxious beeping. He figured he might as well ask now before he lost more nerve due to embarrassing shirt stains or bypassed flirting. Fixing a practiced look of confidence on his face, he reached out his hand and placed it on the counter near the other's—not quite touching but close enough to infer intimacy. "Actually, Gaara. I was wondering if you were free tonight after you close up."

Swinging the tablet back and moving away toward the espresso machine, Gaara set the measurement for a double shot and began gathering the pumpkin spice flavoring. "Free?" Gaara normally found their conversations pleasant while performing the mind-numbing task of making caffeinated concoctions on demand, but this was an odd question outside of their normal fare of weather and maybe synopses of their day.

As he handled the steaming pitcher for the milk, he settled to answer Naruto's inquiry to the best of his understanding. "I don't have errands to run after I close." He paused for a beat and thought maybe they had advanced to a new level of propriety, so he hesitantly followed up with, "Are you… free?"

Naruto watched the barista deftly handle the espresso machine, pulling his shot and steaming the milk with practiced ease. He really liked watching Gaara work with his hands because of their graceful efficiency—his movements were always calmly precise, which was a stark contrast to his clumsy gestures. Their differences were probably what drew him to the other man in the first place. Something about opposites attracting and whatnot.

In the two months he had casually known the other man, Naruto had never once heard Gaara sound anything less than nonchalantly blunt. The mild hesitation in his voice as he pondered the question was a welcomed new development. Perhaps Gaara _had_ understood his attempts at flirting all this time.

"Of course I'm free," he responded with a grin that was potentially too self-satisfied. "That's why I'm asking you out on a date."

The pouring of milk into the cup hiccupped as Gaara's movements were interrupted by an uncontrollable twitch. For the first time in weeks, a substituent of a drink ended up on the counter and floor instead of a cup, and if his entire field of vision hadn't narrowed to a point and his heart hadn't skipped and seized, he would have been mildly bewildered at his ineptitude.

"I—" Gaara looked up from the ruined drink to meet Naruto's startlingly bright expression and he could _hear_ his pulse speed up. "You—" In his disorientation, he grabbed the nearest towel and twisted it between his hands for grounding, completely and utterly lost at what to do, to say, to _be_. "W-what?" he finally whispered, searching the other's eyes for an answer to a question he didn't know.

With some bewilderment of his own, Naruto watched as Gaara's hand twitched and sloshed perfectly steamed milk onto the counter right after he delivered his date invitation. The panicked expression on the other's face said it all, and the stuttering single words that Gaara managed only proved to emphasize the immensity to which he had just fucked up.

Gaara had no idea Naruto was into him.

"Oh my god," he breathed out shakily as he watched Gaara uncharacteristically twist a bar towel between his hands in what could only be described as an anxious tic. "I'm so sorry, Gaara. I thought you knew I liked you." He shifted awkwardly in place, shoving both hands into his pockets in order to stop his own nervous wringing. His heart thudded aggressively in his chest and he took a deep, measured breath to try to calm down.

This… this was _liking someone?_ Gaara squeezed the fibers between his fingers even harder. How was he to know? The pit of his stomach churned and he felt faint and unable to speak. This felt _horrible_.

"I," he swallowed, throat heavy and tight, "did not know." It was like gravity was flickering on and off, and he swayed on his feet, having only the vaguest sense of self-preservation to untangle his grip from the towel to brace himself using the edge of the sink.

Broken with misaligned attempts to regulate his breathing, Gaara managed to ask, "What do I say?"

The pained looked on Gaara's face made Naruto almost reach out reflexively to comfort the other man, but he managed to stop the impulsive jerk of his body forwards once the sensible part of his mind reminded him that physical contact would probably worsen this situation. Instead, he offered what he thought was a reassuring smile and softened the tone of his voice. "You don't have to say anything."

Taking another slow breath and counting to five helped to ease some of the tension in his chest. "I was wrong to assume," he clarified for Gaara's sake, now wiser with the knowledge that the other man may have more difficulty with social cues than he had previously thought. He squashed the urge to re-evaluate what he remembered of Gaara's responses to all his poorly veiled attempts at flirting.

"I do like you, though," he continued pensively after a moment. Better to be truthful, he figured. "You're a cool guy, Gaara. I'd still like to spend some time with you tonight—if you're comfortable with that."

According to that line of logic, it was possible to make a decision; spending time with someone was based on (a) liking them and (b) them being cool—whatever that meant. Gaara liked Naruto just fine, although the blond's taste, both in coffee drinks and people considered cool, was questionable. After all, between them, Naruto clearly had all the cool factor, as evinced by that self-assured smile and demeanor he was treated to at the end of every shift for the past several weeks.

Staring at the spreading puddle on the floor to collect his final thoughts, he closed his eyes in hopes that the removal of the visual chaos would reestablish his equilibrium. When ready, he held the other's gaze steady and inquired as evenly as possible, "All right. What did you have in mind?"

Naruto had been expecting a polite rejection after the previous turn in their conversation and was not prepared for the intense look that Gaara levied his way. He blinked furiously in surprise for a bit before regaining his bearings, albeit mildly hot under the collar again due to the prolonged eye contact. Smolder indeed.

"Um," he faltered for a moment, running through the prepared list of activities he had initially intended to suggest when he set out earlier to whisk Coffee Bae off of his proverbial feet. He pondered the intimacy of each potential activity and erred on the side of caution, settling for one that could ostensibly pass for a friendly hangout. "How about we grab something to eat? The restaurant down the block has a late-night happy hour that's pretty nice."

He considered Gaara for a moment and suddenly had a flare of doubt regarding his cuisine choice. "Do you like sushi?"

"A late-night happy hour," Gaara repeated, rolling the words around as if that would help him better understand what they entailed. He stooped on autopilot to mop at the spilt milk, the sense of familiar annoyance at the menial task a welcome respite from the rest of the bedlam in his mind.

"Sushi?" he mumbled, mostly to himself. He had seen colorful pictures of the aforementioned food item but he certainly never ventured out of his way to attempt to eat something that wasn't all that common where he grew up. Sushi was raw fish, right? No one was stupid enough to risk eating raw fish in the middle of his desert hometown. But this was the city now. It made sense that seafood could easily be packed, transported, and served without bacterial infection.

Coming to a conclusion and straightening up from the crouch by the damp floor, he responded, "That's fine."

Naruto let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Okay, he could totally do this. They were going on a maybe-sort-of-date and it was going to be _fantastic_. This was the start to a rom-com saga that would end in him cavorting Gaara into the sunset astride a majestic white mare. In no way possible was he going to stick his foot into his mouth again with double entendres while sitting in a dimly-lit restaurant across from Coffee Bae.

"All right," he nodded, mostly for his own reassurance since Gaara was still busying himself with actual work tasks, "sounds like a plan." He shot a quick glance down at his wristwatch to note the time: 10 minutes to close.

"Mind if I stay until you get off?" Foot already in mouth again—yes, he was definitely off to a blazing start. Naruto quickly shuffled over to a nearby table and flopped down into the chair, staring pointedly at his phone screen in order to avoid making any other verbal mishaps. Looking at Gaara was liable to result in more embarrassing zingers because his libido was apparently out of control. He also needed to go chase down his confidence, which had jumped ship earlier during this conversation.

Apparently they had graduated to trading rhetorical questions, so Gaara had one of his own. "You did order this pumpkin travesty for here, right?" Finding the previously abandoned failure of a latte distasteful, Gaara dumped the entire setup into the sink and washed his hands to start afresh.

He glanced at Naruto from around the espresso machine only to find the blond staring intently at his phone. Something akin to disappointment settled at his core, despite now not having to expend energy making idle chit-chat.

He completed the order with a brutal decision that Naruto didn't deserve foam art and then walked the pumpkin spice latte over to the seated blond. Gaara set the cup down firmly—wouldn't want _another _spill—and deadpanned, "Enjoy."

Naruto startled as Gaara dropped the ceramic cup down in front of him, the plain microfoam shaking upon the contact. No latte art. His stomach sank as he peered hesitantly up at the other man, noting the pinched look on Gaara's face. He had the wherewithal to feel chagrined about hastily sitting down instead of waiting for aforementioned pumpkin travesty at the counter. Of course, Gaara was upset—Naruto had just asked him out and then basically ignored him right afterwards. Unintentionally lewd remarks were probably the least of Naruto's worries at this point.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. I did." He mumbled the words in staccato as he reached out to take the handle of the cup. "Thanks," he offered with a sheepish smile up at Gaara before the other man walked away to flip the shop signboard to "Closed."

Naruto buried his face into the cup and dutifully drank the over-sweet beverage. Perhaps he would have to abstain from coffee after all.

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**-tbc-**


	2. Chapter 2: Tamp

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Naruto or any of the characters, and this piece of fanfiction exists for the sole purpose of entertainment.

**Pairing: **NaruGaa

**Genre: **romance, humor

**Rating: **PG-13

**Words: **4329

**Warnings: **language

**A/N: **Gaara is written by LilPurplFlwr and Naruto is written by Futago no Seishi. Edited by LilPurplFlwr, so expect this to be practically unedited, lol.

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**Like You a Latte**

**Chapter 2: Tamp**

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Normally Gaara liked silence, but the silence was a weighted shackle chaining him to his blond companion as they walked down the street toward aforementioned—ugh—_sushi._ The more distance they covered, the more he regretted.

He regretted making the last drink of the night without foam art (after all, he was damn good at it). He regretted getting annoyed at the blond for an inexplicable reason. He regretted saying yes to something of which he had no prior experience.

He glared at a particularly offensive streetlamp. Perhaps his biggest regret was even engaging in polite conversation with Naruto for the first time months ago. Why wasn't the asphalt combusting? Life was a goddamn marvel sometimes.

Naruto could feel the chill in the air—and no, it had nothing to do with the autumn season.

He had sat in silence watching Gaara go through the motions of cleaning up the coffee shop equipment, restocking, and cleaning the seating areas, all the while feeling like a chastised child. Naruto had been hoping to break the silence after Gaara finished locking up, but aside from the redhead's terse inquiry about the direction of the restaurant, there had been nary a word spoken between them. Naruto's mind was running in circles trying to think of potential things he could say to fix the situation but nothing sounded good enough—and it needed to sound _perfect_ in his head because his foot-in-mouth syndrome made everything come out, at best, with 50% efficacy.

"Say, Gaara…" he started hesitantly, unable to complete the question on his tongue. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed, more in exasperation at himself.

Gaara was spiraling. He could feel it. He stopped dead in his tracks, only vaguely registering Naruto's voice. "Hold on," he said, hoping it was enough to hold space.

Staring hard at the corner of the street where the restaurant presumably was near, he took a quick mental tally. His level of ire was unusual, but he had dismissed it due to the equally unusual events of the night. He could very well be this irritated because it was the end of his work shift and he needed refueling. "I apologize," Gaara declared abruptly to the night stretched before them. Turning to face Naruto, he stated, "Is this supposed to be fun?"

He paused and belatedly wondered if that sounded accusatory. "I don't know how to do this," Gaara explained, glancing down at his hands and wishing there was something he could wring. His jacket, maybe?

A small laugh bubbled up from his chest and Naruto felt the tension around them lessen somewhat, even if it was just a nervous response. It sounded like a rhetorical question but Naruto guessed that it wasn't, if the look of consternation stretched across Gaara's face was any indication. "Generally, yes, dates are supposed to be fun." What a conversation they were having. This was certainly not the witty banter he had envisioned for their first date.

Naruto turned to face Gaara and studied him underneath the streetlights. Then, going with his gut and potentially committing yet another grave mistake tonight, he reached out and put his hand onto the redhead's shoulder, fingers curling over to squeeze gently. "I don't think I do either," he concluded cheerfully, rocking back onto his heels with a bit of a mischievous smile on his face. His confidence had apparently snuck back in through the hidden entrance during their awkward walk and was prompting him to go bold or go home (literally).

He let his hand slide down the other man's arm, feeling the soft, time-worn leather beneath his fingers. "All I know right now," he started as he grabbed Gaara's hand firmly in his own, "is that I like you and I'm starving." He started walking toward the restaurant again, gently pulling the reticent redhead along. "Beer would be nice, too," he threw in as an afterthought.

"If you say so." Gaara quashed the urge to step away when Naruto touched his arm; it was odd not having a counter between them. Gaara gave their clasped palms a test squeeze to gauge the solidity. Naruto's hand was unseasonably warm and strangely comfortable. This was actually nice. Grounding. This certainly explained why people walked around interlinked like this.

Something akin to giddiness welled up inside Naruto as he felt Gaara squeeze his hand in return. Part of him had expected the other man to pull away at the unsolicited touch, especially considering the rocky start to the evening, so it was all the more rewarding to be walking hand-in-hand down the street with Gaara. So fortune does favor the bold after all.

"You know," Gaara mused, falling into step with the other now that he understood the parameters better, "you have the best smile." It wasn't that he was envious of Naruto's naturally sunny good looks; Naruto just had one of those smiles that people probably wrote poetry about.

Naruto was in the middle of a very detailed fantasy of a picturesque sunset walk along the beach with Coffee Bae when present-moment Gaara unexpectedly commented on his smile. "Well, aren't you a smooth talker," Naruto teased in return while casting a sideways glance at the other man. The smile remained bright on his face as he tucked his chin down slightly into his neck, suddenly feeling a little shy. Gaara didn't strike him as the type of person to dole out compliments freely, which made the statement all the more meaningful.

"Keep going like that and you'll charm me even more," he continued, feeling flirtatious from the warm, solid grip on his own hand. They had reached the restaurant and Naruto held the door open for Gaara.

"What are you talking about?" Gaara asked, casting a confused look at the man holding the door open. Fairly certain it would be awkward to drag the other man with him through the entrance, he mumbled _thank you_ and released their hold to cross the restaurant's threshold. After he signaled to the hostess for two, he turned back to wait for Naruto to join him.

Naruto wasn't sure whether to be impressed or concerned about Gaara's cluelessness, but something about the other man's naivety was incredibly charming. Naruto followed the hostess to their table and slipped into the booth across from Gaara. He allowed himself a moment to stare unabashedly at his date, with his mussed hair and defined cheekbones, until the hostess left. "That's called flirting, Gaara," he chuckled under his breath as he propped his elbows up on the table and dropped his chin onto his steepled hands, eyes twinkling in amusement.

Sliding his jacket off to set beside him, Gaara gave a mild frown in return. "That doesn't explain anything." He huffed in exasperation. "Naruto, you can be so strange."

Naruto laughed in response. He was glad to see that Gaara had returned to his usual self, more or less. "Sorry. I'm not very good at explaining things," he stated as he reached down and sifted through the different menus with practiced ease.

Mimicking the other, Gaara attempted to sort the multitude of menus for himself. There seemed to be one each for food, drinks, desserts, happy hour, and specials. "What is happening?" he muttered to himself over a paper checklist of densely packed font. "What is this list of… are these all types of fish?"

Eyeing the drink specials, Naruto was in the midst of deciding between the happy hour specials on hot sake or imported beer when he heard Gaara's mumbled questions. Looking up, he noted the bemused expression on the redhead's face as he fingered the standard order form. Cocking his own head in slight confusion, Naruto motioned his own copy of the corresponding menu as visual aid. "Yeah, you mark your nigiri or roll order on the form… have you never ordered this way before?"

Whatever this form was, not only were most of the terms foreign to him, the length was overwhelming. Gaara cleared his throat before replying, "I have not, no."

True to form, there were visuals of the more popular items in the main menu, and while they were appropriately colorful and aesthetically fascinating, Gaara couldn't imagine the taste or texture of the pictured food. Every cell in his body was gradually coming to agreement that the mere _concept_ of raw fish was too suspect.

He couldn't imagine asking Naruto to compare and contrast every item on the checklist for his edification, so when in doubt, he fell back on, "Do you have any recommendations?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Naruto excitedly began pointing out various items on the menu in his grasp, oblivious to Gaara's clear discomfort about the situation. "The hamachi and green onion roll here is fantastic. Can also never go wrong with salmon, though I'm pretty partial to a dragon roll myself."

As if on cue, his stomach let out a disapproving grumble about the lack of sushi he was currently consuming. Ignoring his protesting stomach, Naruto continued to flip menu pages to point at various colorful images corresponding to each suggestion. "We can also share if you want variety. What fish do you like?"

Gaara had so many questions and enough budding nausea to not speak them aloud. What the heck was a hamachi (other than a brand of motorcycle)? Had he turned green like the onion roll yet? Why would anyone not cook their salmon? And considering dragons were fictional creatures, what mystery meat was in _that_ roll?

"I, uhm," Gaara began, studying the pictures in hopes of arriving at a glorious epiphany, but hopes effectively dashed, he finished with, "I do not have a favorite fish." That was possibly one of the stranger declarations he had ever said in his life, but at least it was still the truth. He set down the menu. "Perhaps you should just order."

"Are you sure?" Naruto queried innocently, lifting his eyes from the menu to regard the other man again with some growing confusion. Maybe Gaara was indecisive by nature and he just never got to see it before because he was always the one ordering something in their past interactions. It seemed uncharacteristic of the redhead, but he supposed first dates were about learning about each other and all that jazz.

"Okay then." Naruto grabbed the small pencil and started marking the order form, writing a small numeral one in the allotted boxes next to his favorite dragon roll and some classic nigiri options, including salmon, tuna, and sweet shrimp. Handing the form to Gaara for confirmation, he lifted his hand to flag down their server. "Want to split some hot sake too?"

Gaara was no stranger to alcohol, so he simply nodded and arranged the collection of menus neatly to be whisked away by the server.

Naruto found Gaara peculiarly silent as they waited for their order, and he entertained the brief worry that he had somehow upset the other man again with his poor choice of sushi. Did Gaara secretly hate eel and was too polite to say so? Could Naruto be with someone who didn't share his nearly fanatical love of eel? Ponderous considerations to take into account on this very important first date.

Gaara mistakenly assumed there would be a long recess between staring at pictures of fish and the arrival of said fish. He should have known; without the need for heat and cooking, the time required to prepare these dishes was minimized. Fortunately the sake was delivered first and he hastily knocked a cup back before eyeing the seafood array with barely veiled trepidation.

As Naruto watched Gaara grimly down a cup of sake the moment it arrived, he had a discomforting thought that maybe the other man was regretting going out with him tonight. But before Naruto had time to allow the frenetic self-doubt to take over, Gaara began what could only be described as a stare down to the death with the dragon roll.

He could do this. Gaara held his pair of chopsticks poised between his empty plate and the nearest artfully arranged roll and froze. Maybe he couldn't do this. "What—which one is this?"

Surprise quickly overtook Naruto's anxiety as Gaara hesitantly asked about the roll content, and it suddenly struck Naruto that all of Gaara's inquiries were due to unfamiliarity rather than indecisiveness.

"Gaara... Have you never eaten sushi before?"

Lips pursed, Gaara let the tip of his chopsticks drop to his pristine plate. "No." He inhaled slowly and searched the other's expression for judgment or disgust. "I haven't."

He wasn't sure why he wasn't more forthcoming about his sushi apprehension. Maybe he just wanted to match Naruto's self-assured coolness. This was a date, right? If this went poorly (or _more_ poorly?), he might not see the other man again. There were hundreds of other coffee shops that served sugary caffeine fixes; Naruto could easily never return to see him. His heart clenched.

He always presumed it would be his prickly personality, not his upbringing, that would cause them to part ways after this evening. Dropping his gaze to the decorated roll before him, Gaara offered softly in defense, "I grew up in a desert."

Naruto felt like an utter fool. He had been wrapped up in his own head, making faulty attributions for Gaara's behavior, that he completely missed the other man's clear discomfort regarding his dinner suggestion. His initial instinct was to verbally flail about and apologize profusely, but he bit his tongue before he could begin rambling and potentially guilt-trip Gaara further. The expression on Gaara's face looked so vulnerable.

Reaching across the table, Naruto bumped the tip of his own chopsticks against Gaara's because he couldn't quite reach the other's hand. "Hey, no worries," he said and, in an effort to instill some levity into the situation, followed up with, "Fish definitely don't swim in the desert." He gave a crooked smile before stating sincerely, "We can order something else if you'd like." Retracting his chopsticks, he directed them to the various sushi displayed upon their tabletop. "But if you're willing to try something new, I can explain what each of these are."

Gaara released a trapped breath that he didn't realize he was holding. "Sorry," _again_. He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but it seemed apt. Naruto had never given the impression of being irritated at Gaara's general lack of common etiquette and know-how (courtesy of an off-handed observation made by Temari once upon a time) but there was always the straw that broke the camel's back… maybe sushi was that straw.

"Please, if you don't mind," Gaara said, returning his chopsticks to a hover above the plate to indicate that he had wrestled his nerves into submission. For the time being.

Naruto took his cue and began explaining each type of sushi in detail, from the fish type, texture, flavors, and correct usage of the standard accoutrements of wasabi and pickled ginger. Concluding with the dragon roll and emphasizing that it contained only cooked seafood, Naruto picked up an end piece and reported proudly, "This one's my favorite." Then he popped the roll into his mouth, a wide grin spreading across his face as he slowly savored the eel and sticky-sweet sauce.

Confident in his ability to imitate the other, Gaara picked up the next piece of dragon roll and brought it to his mouth to consume. And stopped.

How in the world was this supposed to fit in his mouth? Alarmed, he set the item down on his plate for security reasons. If he took one bite, the roll would unravel and rain down in sad clumps. If he stuffed it into his mouth and his jaw didn't unhinge sufficiently, he was in for another mess. He was not ready to make a bigger fool of himself.

But wait. This was clearly Naruto's favorite item. And he _was_ curious. Gaara tightened his chopsticks around the roll and brought it eye-level for some brief intimidation before cautiously nudging it into his mouth. Chipmunk cheeks be damned.

Fortunately, the fake dragon was pleasantly tasty, albeit foreign in just about every aspect of anything he had ever held in his mouth. Conversation be damned too; chewing this was going to take a while.

Mouth full of his own bite of sushi, Naruto stifled a giggle as he watched Gaara stare down the dragon roll before shoving the entire piece into his mouth in one fell swoop. The redhead had grabbed the largest piece, to boot. Naruto was struck by the adorable picture the other man made, cheeks puffed out and clearly struggling to chew through the copious amount of food. Since Gaara's face didn't crinkle in distaste, Naruto decided to go with the assumption that, at the very least, the redhead didn't hate eel and that all was still good in the world.

Naruto decided to allow Gaara to finish his mouthful before attempting to engage the other man in conversation. In the time it took poor Coffee Bae to finish chewing, he had already inhaled two other sushi pieces. Naruto pondered briefly whether he ate too fast. "So what do you think?"

Taking a sip of water, Gaara collected his thoughts and was pleased to honestly say, "It's good." Head quirked to one side, he couldn't help add, "Hard to eat though."

Naruto laughed in response and quipped, "You could bite it in half, you know." With ease born of sheer practice, Naruto picked up another sushi and dipped it into his wasabi-heavy soy sauce. "I'm really glad you like it though!" he exclaimed genuinely before proceeding to eat sushi at an alarmingly fast rate (to anyone else).

There was something awe-inspiring about the speed at which Naruto ate. The blond wasn't noisy or messy by any means but seemed to be a well-oiled eating machine. In return, Gaara refused to be cowed by the too-large pieces of sushi and methodically worked his way through their various orders.

The rest of the meal passed in amiable silence, as: 1) the sullen redhead was not much for small talk and 2) he continued to obstinately struggle with too-large mouthfuls out of what Naruto could only assume was stubbornness. As Naruto had consumed his half of the food at a considerably faster rate than the other man, he spent the rest of the meal slowly sipping sake and admiring Gaara's chiseled facial features as surreptitiously as he could.

After they had signaled for the check, Gaara found himself at a loss. What now? He stared hard at his dinner companion but found no cues for conversation or action. He fought the urge to fidget. Finally, with no ideas of his own, he asked into the silence, "How are dates supposed to end?"

Naruto couldn't help the mischievous smile that crept up on his face at the innocent question. His urge to make some sort of sexual innuendo or otherwise ill-advised pick-up line had increased something fierce. "Well, traditionally they end in a kiss," he started as he leaned forward on his elbows and looked directly into Gaara's eyes, "but I'll settle with you agreeing to go out on a second date with me."

Put on the spot, Gaara instinctively frowned, finding the intense eye contact unnerving, particularly when he himself wasn't dishing it out. He hoped he had schooled his expression enough to mask his hammering heart leaping in alarm at the prospect of kissing, even though the idea had been swiftly tabled.

He could, however, appreciate Naruto's straightforward delivery. Had the other man beaten around the bush, Gaara was certain he would have missed the point—yet again. "Agreed then," he imparted with simulated nonchalance.

There was a palpable skip in Naruto's heartbeat when Gaara calmly accepted his second date invitation. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, so the redhead's definitive response caught Naruto off-guard.

Gaara paused long enough to muse aloud, "Are you springing the next date on me at work again?" He really didn't want to be dropping any more drinks on the floor.

Recovering quickly, Naruto retorted with a chuckle, "Not unless you want me to continue harassing you while you work." Pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, Naruto opened up the contact list and created a new entry. He offered his cell phone across the table to Gaara to enter his contact information. "I figured we could talk about it beforehand."

"Our definitions of harassment must differ," Gaara droned once the bewilderment had passed, his memory drifting back to examples presented in the online discrimination and harassment training. He took careful hold of Naruto's phone and delicately tapped the screen to fill in the relevant fields. "Does this—" He looked up, tentative to ask but wondering all the same, and rephrased with, "Will you still visit me?"

Naruto smiled at the hesitant question, primarily due to now knowing Gaara wanted to continue seeing him throughout the week—although he did find the other man's delivery quite endearing, too.

Reaching for his cell phone, Naruto let his fingers brush against Gaara's hand and linger there. "Will you miss me if I don't?" he teased as he took the device back into his palm in order to save the redhead's phone number. In reality, Naruto knew full well that he would be the one suffering from major Coffee Bae withdrawal if he stopped patronizing Gaara's workplace, so the likelihood of that coming to pass was slim to none. He considered his phone for a moment before grinning and texting Gaara a lone heart-eyes emoji as means of exchanging his number.

"I suppose I would," Gaara answered, frowning at the prospect of a Naruto-less shift. Somewhere along the way, he had begun to expect the blond's visit at the end of each night. When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he slid it out briefly, only to be assaulted by an offensively cheesy emoji beneath the string of unsaved digits. Why was he not surprised this was Naruto's style of texting?

"Regardless, I'm hoping we'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on," Naruto clarified just as the server returned with their check. "Oh, and let me get dinner," he added as he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

Naruto's verbal proclamation of paying caused Gaara a hiccup in reaching for his wallet. What an odd gesture. Unsettled, Gaara still set approximately enough cash for half the check firmly on the receipt. "No need," he stated, staring Naruto in the eye and daring the other man to object.

Naruto would not dare to do contrary to Gaara's expectations, not after _that _look. Realizing that the offer to front their first date was not flying over smoothly, Naruto decided it was wise to not push the matter. "Okay. Thanks…" Naruto mumbled half to himself as he picked up the cash and swapped it out for his credit card, awkwardly pushing the bill tray to the edge of the table for easy access. He was grateful that the server returned promptly to close out the check, as he was having a hard time regaining his composure and avoiding Gaara's piercing gaze.

Gaara could not fathom why Naruto looked like a kicked puppy when they split the check. It was only logical to pay one's share of things, right? In the subsequent silence, gears churning through reasons, he stifled a heavy sigh. Perhaps it was a custom unbeknownst to him, like the hand-holding—which had turned out innocuous enough—and he had unwittingly ruined the outing. _Again._ He felt an impending headache stemming mainly from self-frustration. This was stupid.

After signing his name with a flourish, Naruto looked up at Gaara silently watching him and cleared his throat nervously. Although he had held the other man's hand earlier, he sensed potential rejection what with the whole check snafu and all. Shaking his head slightly, as if it would clear his doubts, he stood up from the table and walked over to Gaara. Offering his hand to the other man, he suggested, "Let me walk you back."

Startling from his reverie, Gaara noticed the other's proffered hand. Maybe this was still salvageable. Grabbing his discarded jacket, he mumbled, "Thank you," and scooted out from the booth to take Naruto's hand. He fought the instinct to immediately let go once on his feet. Instead, he resolutely rearranged his grip so they would remain clasped as he moved to exit the restaurant. Gaze anywhere but the blond, he cleared his throat. "This was… nice."

All Gaara had to do was hold his hand, apparently, to wash away any self-doubt that Naruto was currently cultivating. Speeding up so that he was no longer trailing behind the purposefully moving redhead, Naruto couldn't help the slight bounce that entered his step. "It really was," he confirmed as he pushed open the restaurant door with his free hand and held it until the other man successfully cleared the door frame, not quite ready to unlink their hands.

Naruto talked about nothing in particular as they walked, pleased to play out his sunset-walk fantasy, despite the sun setting hours before. Gaara seldom responded with actual words, but the other man appeared to be listening if his noncommittal noises were any indication. Naruto rambled mostly because he didn't want the night to end—but in a cruel trick, time seemed to speed up on their walk back in comparison to the uncomfortably long journey to the restaurant. Eventually, he was forced to relinquish the other's hand with one last squeeze as they stood in the parking lot outside of the coffee shop.

Committing the softness of Gaara's palm and the firmness of his finger bones to memory, Naruto promised, "I'll text you."

Unwilling to lose the warmth of the other's hand to the night, Gaara sequestered his hands into his jacket pockets and nodded. "All right."

* * *

**-tbc-**


End file.
